


Recollections of a Childhood

by elements_united



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, Kid Q (James Bond), Pre-Canon, Q (James Bond) is a Holmes, Q is a Holmes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elements_united/pseuds/elements_united
Summary: “Where are we?”—Q remembers a not long ago childhood due to recent events in his life. It’s not easy being the youngest child in a family of geniuses.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Recollections of a Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as preparation for a bigger fic @Raine_N is writing, which I’m very excited for

They had been driving for a while in an almost complete silence. The landscape was rocky, the sky darkened by clouds.

“Where are we going?” he asked. 

They stayed silent. His father kept his eyes strictly on the road, while his mother’s eyes quickly darted away from the rearview mirror, as to not have to look at him. His brothers ignored him, but that was not unusual per se. Nor was the strained tension between them all less than usual. But this felt different to him. There was a underlying thought, a dark one, that he did not, could not, share. 

He was squished between his two much older brothers, seemingly an afterthought in every way on this journey. 

The landscape didn’t seem to change, as if they were repeating time. The tension only seemed to rise. He was starting to feel actively uncomfortable. His oldest brother had an even colder expression than usual, while the other sat turned away from him. He was small and alone. 

—-

A house turned up on the horizon. It was imposing and dark. It was broken. 

The collective mood in the car plummeted even further. A complicated, dark expression passed over his oldest brother’s face. It disappeared quickly, and he didn’t dare comment on it. His older brother shifted in his seat, his face unreadable to him. 

They stopped in front of the damaged building. His parents got out of the car, never breaking the silence. He wanted to loosen his seatbelt to follow them, but his oldest brother stopped him.

“Let them have their moment,” Mycroft said. 

His eyes were focused on the backs of their parents, who stood in front of the car. Sherlock watched them with interest. 

He sat still, his hand still on the release for the seatbelt. He did not understand. 

After moments of anxious waiting, Mycroft opened the door, letting the harsh wind blow into the car. He shivered. His oldest brother stepped out into the cold, taking his faithful umbrella with him. 

He sat, unsure if he should follow him. Sherlock didn’t move a millimeter, showing no intention of getting out before him. Through the windshield he could see Mycroft briefly say something to their parents, the words muffled to the ears of those in the car. 

He decided to get out, the wind throwing him against the car wildly. He blinked and straightened his glasses, finding his family staring at him. Again he felt small, and alone.

“Would you come over here, please, Learoyd,” Mycroft commanded, his tone void of emotion, as always.

Learoyd did as he was asked, as always. 

He dared not notice the tears on his parents cheeks with Mycroft staring at him. Nor did he comment on Sherlock staying behind, taking in the surroundings of the abandoned mansion. 

“Where are we?” he asked. Everyone pressed their lips together. Learoyd didn’t understand.

—-

Q flicked through the pages of the report M had silently, secretly, given him. It detailed an abandoned, burned down house and a quarrel between siblings that had more than got out of hand. Two brothers, and a sister never heard of before. 

His hands were shaking.

Mycroft had lied.


End file.
